


Salted Caramel Latte

by velos_mush



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: AU, Blind Date, Coffeeshop AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:22:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velos_mush/pseuds/velos_mush
Summary: AU in which Hugh & Paul meet in a coffee shop, on a blind date orchestrated by their friends.
Relationships: Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Salted Caramel Latte

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this fic, but I'll share anyway. I wrote this a while ago, and thought about maybe returning to it, but didn't. It's a little unclear what timeline this takes place in, but just enjoy a charming blind date story, I guess! (I hope!)  
> Also I hate naming stuff haha this is cringe

The coffeeshop is busy but not crowded, afternoon sunlight beaming in, forming geometrical shapes on the walls. Hugh sits at the windowsill that’s been turned into a comfortable seating area with colourful pillows and throws. He keenly observes everyone who steps in. An older woman with a gorgeous hairdo, talking with someone over an earpiece, vivid expressions on her face. A young couple holding hands, both carrying a book with them.

Tracy had set him up with a date, which had happened a couple of times before, sometimes more successfully than others. The last time was a couple of years ago now, and Hugh hadn’t really even thought about dating since his last relationship ended last year. Although a mutual decision, a breakup always came with some heartbreak.

But Tracy – usually calm in any circumstances – had been convinced he needed to meet this guy.

“He’s totally your type, Hugh,” she’d proclaimed at a party last Friday. Apparently, she knew him via another friend, but wasn’t willing to share many details, no matter how hard Hugh tried.

“What do they do? C’mon Tracy, give me something!”

“No, no, you’ll have to see for yourself. I’ve always wanted to prepare a blind date!”

Hugh wasn’t a huge fan of the idea but had given in after a couple of drinks. Not that he didn’t trust Tracy’s judgement – they’d been friends for years – he just liked to stay on top of things.

“Have you even met him?” Hugh had inquired.

“Yes, briefly,” Tracy had answered and waved her hand towards a friend on the other side of the room, apparently. “At the awards thing last Sunday...”

Tracy’s speech had gotten a little slurred, and for a moment Hugh had though maybe she’d forget all about their conversation by the morning. But she didn’t.

So, here he was. Waiting for his date, not knowing what to expect. All he knew was the person he’d soon be meeting was important enough to be invited to an awards ceremony for researchers funded by Starfleet.

A waiter comes by the table, asking if they can take Hugh’s order or if they’re waiting for someone.

“I’m waiting, thank you,” he dismisses them with a smile.

He turns his gaze to the entrance, as the door lets out a pleasant chime. A man steps in wearing a grey sweater on top of a dress shirt, dark thin framed glasses, his hair almost iridescently blonde against the sunlight. Maybe that’s him, Hugh hopes and at the same second is startled by a message alert from the phone laid in front of him on the tabletop.

 _“There you go,”_ from Tracy Pollard.

Hugh quickly looks around in suspicion. Is Tracy stalking him? He wouldn’t put it past her...

 _“Blondie in glasses,”_ another message chimes. Hugh bites his lower lip unconsciously, and lifts his eyes to the man in question, now standing at the counter. He can only see his back, but he seems to be fidgeting with his hands. The waiter behind the counter gestures towards Hugh with a friendly smile.

The man walks to the table and stops in his tracks. He stares at Hugh with a serious expression, saying nothing.

Hugh finds it a bit odd, but smiles at the man gently.

“Hi. I’m Hugh.”

The man nods in acknowledgement, hesitates for a second more and replies: “Paul Stamets.”

He sits down and almost instantly, the waiter is back, taking their order. Hugh inquires about some of their pies but settles for a salted caramel latte (a dessert with caffeine, basically). Him and the waiter both turn to look at Paul.

“Just coffee,” he says hastily, giving the waiter a smile that’s not quite a smile.

The waiter leaves and there’s a second of silence.

“Nice to meet you, Paul,” Hugh smiles.

“You too. Um. Yeah.”

His eyes wander around the cafe, only maintaining eye contact with Hugh for a few fleeting moments. He seems quite nervous. Hugh can’t blame him. This isn’t exactly in his comfort zone either.

“I hear you were at the Starfleet awards gala a couple weeks ago. Are you Starfleet?”

“Oh god no,” Paul replies with a chuckle. “They would like that, wouldn’t they? My partner – research partner – made me go with him.”

“Oh?”

“He’s... insinuated we join.”

Hugh raises his brows in curiosity.

“So what do you do?” He asks.

“I’m an astromycologist,” Paul answers with a slight nod that could indicate he often has to explain it further.

“Really?” Hugh smiles, genuinely intrigued. “You study mushrooms?”

Paul looks at him surprised, looks down at his hands and chuckles.

“Well, yes. It sounds...” He’s interrupted with the waiter returning with their coffees, placing them on the table with milk and sugar on a tiny tray. This cafe is old-fashioned, but Hugh thinks it adds to the charm.

Paul looks puzzled, trying to remember what he was saying.

“But with the prefix ‘astro- ‘, not just boring Earth mushrooms?” Hugh speaks before him.

A small twinkle lights up Paul’s eyes. He nods: “Not that Earth mushrooms are any worse, but we’ve had plenty of time to study them. Most people have never even heard the term, astromycology,” Paul continues. “But Starfleet recently showed interest, invited us over to the gala...”

Paul huffs, amused, and rolls his eyes. He grabs the small metallic can of milk and pours some into his coffee.

“Starfleet wants to fund your research?” Hugh asks with a smile. It must be quite unique work they’re doing, then.

“Yeah. Not gonna happen.”

Hugh tilts his head. “No?” he asks with a small laugh. “You don’t think it might benefit you?”

Paul looks thoughtful for a moment and sips on his coffee.

“It’s not just that. Of course, there would be more funds, but also less... freedom.”

Hugh nods. He gets it.

“Anyway. What do you do?” Paul asks curiously.

A grin is lifted on Hugh’s face. He can’t help thinking the situation is quite ironic, but it’s best to be honest.

“Starfleet Medical.”

* * *

Paul steps into the cafe, light chatter and sunlight filling the room. He’s still unsure how he ended up here. Apparently, someone in the group he’d ended up at the gala a week and a half ago had wanted to play matchmaker. He’d never thought he would agree, but Justin and Amelia had collectively convinced him, somehow.

It couldn’t be that bad, right? The worst that could happen is he’d end up wasting hours talking to a complete stranger – which did actually sound horrible. He pushes the thought away. He has decided to do this, and it’s too late now, as he finds himself at the counter, facing a friendly-looking employee, staring at him with a questioning look.

“Which one... which one’s table 5?”

The employee smiles politely and gestures with their hands.

“First one on the windowsill.”

Paul moves towards the table automatically, tapping one hand nervously on his side. His focus on the world around him returns just before he reaches his destination. Tight curls, brown eyes, beautiful smile and an impressive build stare right back at him.

Oh, fuck. Now he’s intimidated.

He stands still for what feels like a very long while, staring the man directly in the eyes, and at the last second realizes how creepy it must seem. Stupid, Paul...

“Hi,” the man sitting not far from him greets. His voice is soft and gentle. “I’m Hugh.”

Paul relaxes a tiny bit (still leaving him quite nervous), nods in acknowledgement and answers: “Paul Stamets.”

Maybe it’s not going to be such a bad date after all, he thinks quietly as he settles down in his seat, facing the gorgeous man, sunshine from the window behind him making him appear almost like some celestial being.


End file.
